


GIVE ME SOMETHING TO GET ME THROUGH THE NOTHING

by jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Fluff, Happy Ending, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Oral Sex, Requited Love, Smut, Yaoi, maybe? - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-17
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 17:21:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3177596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle/pseuds/jean_huh_kirschnickerdoodle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> What's the point of doing this every night? What you're giving me is nothing but a heartless lullaby. Before I slip under your sheets, can you give me something please? I can't keep touching you like this if its just temporary bliss.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. THE DOSE THAT YOU DIE ON

**Author's Note:**

> I dont think i really gave much of a description of Alex so uh [here's](http://jean-huh-kirschnickerdoodle.tumblr.com/post/104289246058/inquisitor-alex-who-is-totally-not-a-jearmin) [a](http://jean-huh-kirschnickerdoodle.tumblr.com/post/107555616338/inquisitor-alex-loves-his-bull-shhhhh-bull) [few](http://jean-huh-kirschnickerdoodle.tumblr.com/post/108268796518/kiss-me-like-the-world-is-gonna-disappear) [examples](http://rainbowd00dles.tumblr.com/post/108076915631/jean-huh-kirschnickerdoodles-inquisitor-alex)

‘ _Katoh.’_

The word still rang in his ears, drowning out every word, every gasp and moan that had once echoed in his mind. He hadn’t expected it, surely not at seemingly random in the tavern with nothing even remotely close to bindings in sight. Sure, there were plenty in the room the Iron Bull used above the tavern, but that wasn’t important.

What was important was the way the inquisitor looked at him in that moment. The way his brows furrowed and his shoulders pulled together, the way his feet shifted and the way he tried to hide his hands flexing and balling up again, as if he didn’t know what to do with them. If that all wasn’t enough, the way he chewed on the inside of his lip when those bright blue eyes averted from him was enough.

Alex never was the greatest at hiding how he felt.

_‘Sure thing, Boss.’_

It had killed him to say that. To accept it. To not ask questions. But pride had a way of slowly sucking the life from a person.

He was The Iron Bull, not a person, just a machine meant for destruction. He was a Qunari. He was strong, one of the best. He was Ben-Hassrath. _Was_ Ben-Hassrath, he had to remind himself. Something he had given up for Alex, and for the Chargers.

It had been a decision that he hadn’t hesitated in making—how could he, not when the other option would have meant watching his men die. He didn’t regret it. Even so, it was still a loss of part of his life. An important part. Just as his pride refused to let him show his pain at being branded Tal-Vashoth, it made him hide his pain over losing Alex.

But he hadn’t just lost him. He had never had him, he was sure. He was just another mountain to climb. Both figuratively and literally. Everyone wanted to ride the bull. Alex had been tentative, malleable, and the way he looked at him…

He had to remind himself not to think on that. Not to remember the way he sounded, nor the way he smelled and tasted. The way he writhed and arched below him. The way his breath would hitch or the way its sharpest moments weren’t in bed, but were the stolen kisses.

Of course trying not to think about it only made him think about it more. The way his lips were always so soft and warm, even when they went on that dragon hunting ‘trip’—it had been a ‘date’; he knew it had been a date—to Emprise Du Lion. Cole had gotten hurt on that trip, it hadn’t been anything serious, but it was enough that they spent the night in the Bone Tower camp.

It had been one of the times that they had absolute peace. The surrounding soldiers kept watch, Alex had already taken care of the rifts, and thanks to their little date, they hadn’t even had the dragons to worry about. It had always been a fond memory, building a fire that was a bit too large to be safe, wrapping up in fur-lined throws that had been a by-product of the snoufleurs they had been requisitioned to hunt.  

Even though snow fell around them, frigid air snapping just on the edge of their camp, they were warm. Warm and safe and happy, Alex wrapped in a throw that was big enough to cover him and Cole, with his burnt arm, who was laying with his head on his lap. Dorian had kept them entertained, regaling them with tales of his escapades in Tevinter. Bull remembered falling asleep to Alex’s laughter, and waking to find the young inquisitor snuggled against his side, Cole still in his lap, and Dorian’s back against his other arm, all under an array of throws.

It had been happy, even if he woke up with a dead arm thanks to Dorian. It had been…home.

“Not enough.” His words weren’t much more than a mumble, with the slightest of slurs. Bull could hold his liquor like none other, but even he was affected by the copious amount he was consuming.

There was a loud thud, the force causing the wooden table to reverberate against the gray skin of his cheek.

“Get your horns off the table, you big ass.”

Glossy eyes looked up to see his lieutenant looking down his nose at him. He rolled his eyes and groaned, turning his face until his forehead pressed against the rough grain.

“Come on, Chief, team’s gonna think you’ve gone soft.” The grin in Krem’s voice was evident, the sound of metal grinding over uneven wood seeming unnaturally loud as Maryden took a break.

The break was short-lived before she began Sera’s song; Iron Bull had always found it amusing, and accurate, and wondered if the Friend of Red Jenny had a hand in writing the song itself. Probably not, he thought, considering its severe lack of the word shite.

“Rejection, Krem.”

Krem sighed, climbing to sit on the table, feet next to his boss’ ‘big ass’. “Betrayal. Deception. Temptation. Look at that, I can use big words, too.”

Bull said nothing, only lifting one large hand and curling all but one finger down, unsurprised when Krem laughed in response.

“Come on, Chief. Got you a drink. The good Qunari stuff, none of this weak human shit.” Krem tapped the chilled metal, a necessity after the chargers broke one too many glass tankards in celebration. Varric had been generous enough to have the mages cast a thin protection over the cups to prevent an outbreak of poisoning.

The Iron Bull grumbled, pushing off the table and grabbing the tankard. He didn’t hesitate to chug down half of it, slamming it back onto the table and letting out a hoarse grunt. At this point, most of the nerves in his throat had long since been slain.

“He said it, Krem. Katoh.” His eyes remained downcast, watching the reddened liquid shiver in his cup as he squeezed it hard enough that his hands trembled.

“Yeah, I know. It’s almost as if I was sitting ten paces away and have proceeded to make sure your big ass doesn’t drown in your own vomit since.”

“Hey, no need to kick a dead dog. That was one time. One _fucking_ time. Never in my fucking life have I puked from that dragon piss.” As if to emphasize his point, he downed the rest of his drink.

Krem shook his head, putting his own tankard to his lips and hissing with watery eyes and a crinkled nose at the burn that followed. “Ugh, how can you drink this shit.”

“Efficiently.” Large hands took Krem’s drink, gulping down a nearly full tankard.

“Impressive.” Sarcasm dripped from his words, but Bull didn’t notice or didn’t care, a satisfied hiss slipping from his lips as a grin tugged at them. Silence hung over them for a moment before Krem broke it, voice low. “We could leave.”

The atmosphere shifted, large hands loosening their grip and releasing the cup as the Iron Bull straightened and turned to look at his second-in-command. “No.”

“But Chief…”

“We’re the Chargers! The Iron Bull and his company of mercenaries!” The qunari’s voice raised with fervor, loud and gravelly. “We’re the best! We get a job and we fucking do it. And our job right now is to help the inquisition.”

“By drinking yourself into a blathering stupor every night.” Krem mumbled, not turning away from his leader.

Bull glared at the man before lifting his tankard to his lips, only to slouch in defeat as he remembered it was empty. “Haven’t been sent on any jobs.”

“Then get off your lazy ass and tell Alex..to..send—” Krem realized his mistake too late as he watched the qunari heavily slump against the table.

“Alex…” Bull ignored the way his lieutenant sighed. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered. It didn’t stop the ache in his head or the restlessness of his limbs or the way his heart had moved into his throat and he couldn’t remember when he had eaten concrete but if the heavy nausea in his stomach was anything to judge by it wasn’t digesting well. “He…I…wasn’t enough..? Just…riding the…..”

“Chief…” Krem shook his head, hopping down from the table and pulling one of the blankets from the pile of things that had become the Iron Bull’s corner. He draped it over him, watching as his breathing slowed but his face remained contorted in pain. It wasn’t the first time in the past few weeks he had drank himself into unconsciousness.

* * *

Alex took a deep breath, pausing only inches from the door to the tavern. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing here. Long enough for his hands to grow stiff, clenched into fists as he tried to control the way they trembled, fingers aching to touch the warmth that usually came with visiting the tavern.

“Need some help with that door, Inquisitor?” Scout Harding’s voice broke into his mind, laced with humor.

“I, uh, no, sorry.”

“Hey, can’t blame you. That is a pretty scary looking door.” She was smirking now, a glint in her eyes.

Alex couldn’t really blame her. They had met many times, Harding being the main forward scout for their missions, reporting to him upon arrival. Their conversations usually consisted of flirtatious banter, so this was nothing out of the ordinary. He actually appreciated it, fairly certain she could tell something was wrong. More than likely she knew _exactly_ what that something was.

“It’s more what’s behind it.” His words were a mumble, taking one last steeling breath before nodding firmly to Harding. She smiled and nodded in return; silent encouragement.

The large door easily gave way, sudden warmth almost stifling, music drifting out and entrapping him, pulling him in against his will. The door shut behind him, a few of the regulars lifting their glasses toward him. He gave a small nod in response before pushing past into the open area of the main floor.

As he remembered to breathe, he recognized the song the bard was playing as Enchanter. He had heard them all, but this was one of his favorites. He smiled softly to her, knowing it wouldn’t reach his eyes, and dropped a couple sovereigns into the small bowl on the mantle beside her. She was plenty paid by the inquisition, but somehow he felt it just as important to give her personal thanks in moments like these.

Honestly, Alex couldn’t help but feel lost. He stood where he was, listening to the sounds of the bard Maryden and pretending that’s what he came here for. But that wasn’t it. He couldn’t really say _why_ he was here.

It was far too late to bother Sera, though he was certain she was awake. If the casual thuds he kept hearing were anything to go by, she was apparently practicing with throwing knives, or shooting an imaginary duchess or four again. No, he would let her be for the night.

Instead, his feet had carried him to the bar. Cabot stood behind the counter, ever ready. Alex wondered if the dwarf ever actually slept. He couldn’t actually remember more than a few times that he had seen him not tending the bar. Maybe it was a dwarf thing; he wasn’t sure how often he had seen Varric or Harding take breaks either.

He ignored the thought as the nonsense it was; of course dwarves slept just like everyone else. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. Perhaps they were just overworking themselves to be available for the ‘herald of Andraste’ when he needed.

“Inquisitor.” Cabot set down the cup he had been cleaning, and Alex had to admit that he at least preferred the title to Herald. He hadn’t _wanted_ to lead, but he had long since not been fond of the Chantry or Andrastian.

“Something strong.” Cabot only nodded and went about filling a tankard with whatever he deemed worthy. Alex wasn’t even sure why he was here. He had never been much of a drinker, mostly only partaking when the Iron Bull or Blackwall asked him to; with the exception being when they played Wicked Grace.

One does not get drunk while playing Wicked Grace with an Antivan, Friends of Red Jenny, Ben-Hassrath, and a Professional Bullshitter. Hawke had even joined them once when she had visited. She had wiped the floor with all of them, much to poor Josie’s dismay. She had only smirked, claiming she had learned everything the she knew from Admiral Isabela.

“Here you go.” The tankard slammed on the table and the dark red liquid sloshed, threatening to spill over. “On the house.”

“Thanks.” Alex didn’t have to taste the beverage to recognize it as the qunari alcohol that he and Bull had drank after their first downed dragon.

There had been something special about that night. He had never much liked the idea of being a dragon slayer—despite the fact that they had fought and slain many since—in fact, he had always quite liked dragons. He thought they were beautiful creatures and generally they kept to themselves until people decided to invade their nests. But they had stumbled upon one, fought and had won by the skin of their teeth.

It had been sacred to the Iron Bull, sacred and exciting, and Alex had just been pleased to see a little more into the qunari, the individual. Not the leader of the chargers or the Ben-Hassrath. He thought that maybe that was the night Bull started to see him a little differently, too.

Letting out a sigh, he washed away the memories. Sometimes he wished he could forget, but he knew he never really wanted to. Still, for Cabot to give a free drink—even to the inquisitor—he must really look like shit.

“Far enough, don’t you think?”

Alex was pulled to attention by Krem’s voice. He hadn’t even realized it was happening, his feet pulling him of his own accord toward the Iron Bull’s little nook. Before he had a chance to protest, not that he much could, his eyes caught on a very familiar qunari. His face was contorted, lips moving and muttering even in his unconscious state. His gray skin had flushed with alchohol, and even under the fur-lined throw he looked far from comfortable.

He had seen Bull out-drink just about everyone in existence. He had drank every dwarf in the inquisition under the table. Josie had given him a run for his money—apparently years participating in The Game had taught her a certain tolerance—but in the end she eventually succumbed to the alcohol, mumbling something about curiosity and the Bull.

“Bull…” Alex took a step forward, fingers twitching in want to reach out and touch him.

“Do you need something?” Krem took a firm step in front of Alex, blocking his view from the unconscious qunari. The inquisitor’s lips opened, working but no words coming out despite his desire to protest. “You may be the ‘ _Inquisitor’_ but don’t you think you’ve done enough to the big idiot.”

Blue eyes turned from the Charger’s lieutenant to the floor, throat tightening as he tried to swallow past what he could only assume was his heart. His brows furrowed and his eyes closed tight, taking more than one attempt to swallow down the lump in his throat. He nodded, mouth opening and closing three times before he finally spoke.

“You’re right…” His voice wasn’t much more than a whisper as he turned toward the stairs. “Sorry.” It didn’t matter if Krem had heard or not. It wasn’t meant for him.

The brunet stumbled up the stairs, finding his way to the wall next to Sera’s door. He climbed onto to railing, legs dangling over and not caring that it was more than a little precarious. At least he had a wall to lean against. His eyes focused on the tankard in his hand, red liquid swirling within. He had thought about downing it all and just letting himself slip into the night. But somehow he couldn’t.

He hadn’t heard the footsteps, as he rarely did, but he did see the large hat out of the corner of his eyes. It was the only warning he received before his solitude was interrupted, not unwanted.

“He who heals the sky, heart burns, an ache clinging to an anchor he's tossed away. Fear of feathers caged, caught, captured, cut from freedom. The one who needs, but never wanted, knotted and tied, trapped in trepidation. Gone...” Cole’s voice flowed beside him, liquid beauty that Alex couldn’t help but love. He had long since thought Varric envied him for things that simply came natural to the young man.

“Yes, thank you, Cole.” He had honestly always had a soft spot for the spirit…human…whatever Cole was. Most people feared him, or he made them forget. But Alex had grown attached to him, protective over him. And frankly, he just enjoyed his company. Even if it meant occasionally having his ability to feel other’s feelings turned against him.

“But I don’t understand.” Cole’s voice was as curious as ever, that certain lilt that was distinctly his. He climbed onto the railing next to Alex, feet dangling and kicking happily.

“Understand what?”

“You were happy together. It made you…loud.”

Alex pressed his lips together, aptly avoiding looking at Cole and trying not to think about exactly what that meant. Or the fact that he knew his ears were red with a blush that he hoped was hidden behind his hair.

“Yeah…well…”

“Afraid. Anchor pulls away, bleeding, blundering, binding, bursting. Swelling and swearing, sweltering…in your chest, beating, breaking, begging with desperate dependence. But he, the man, the machine, the mercenary...he washes it away, like the waves beating against the walls, barriers built wavering. But what if he sees it? What if he finds what’s hidden behind the walls inside your chest? It’s…”

Alex dropped his forehead into his hand with growing exasperation, not missing the way Cole turned to look at him.

“Love.”

“Yes, Cole—thank you!” Alex took a deep breath and let out a long, vaguely annoyed sigh. It wasn’t that he was upset at Cole, never. “Yes, I love him, okay. I love The Iron Bull. I am fucking in love with that big fucking idiot and I’m a coward. I’m fucking running away because I can’t handle him not feeling the same. Because that big ass will fucking stay around as long as I need him—”

“He heals the hurt. Like me. But not like me. He heals you.”

“Yes, he does. And all I’ve done is fucking bind him to me because he’ll stay as long as it’s what I need. And it’s always what I’ll need. _He’s always_ what I’ll need.” Alex let out a sigh, eyes sad but loving as they ghosted over the Iron Bull before turning to Cole. “I can’t keep doing this…I don’t want to be just another release. I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel more for him…that I don’t want him to feel the same way.”

“Tell him.”

“I can’t…he deserves to be free.” His voice dropped, eyes returning to the sleeping qunari below him, Krem sitting at his side.

Cole hummed, nodding slowly. He pushed from the railing, pausing a few paces from Alex. “A caged bird can’t fly with broken wings.”

Blue eyes widened, heart pulling Alex’s chest tight as pain jolted through him at Cole’s words. Before he could open his mouth to question, the young man had vanished, as he often did.

* * *

It had been nearly a week since his night at the Herald’s Rest with Cole. He had avoided the building with all cost after that. He felt guilty because it meant avoiding Cole and Sera, but the only entrance that didn’t require him to walk past Bull was the one that went through the room with the bed they had shared on many occasions.

Better to just avoid it all together.

Of course, this just left him wandering around Skyhold without much to do. He had stopped to talk to Dorian and Varric. The latter had humored him with a story about Hawke—certainly exaggerated—but Dorian had been preoccupied searching through the inquisition library in some feeble attempt to find more information about the name Leliana had given him. Something about squashing the fascination with Corypheus before Tevinter mages started sacrificing kittens and virgins.

Amusing as they were, it didn’t do much to fill up his day. He had gone to the war room enough times that Josephine had actually stopped him and to ensure he was feeling all right. He had assured he was. A lie. She surely knew, an Orlesian Ambassador was versed in such things. Still, she let him pass without more than an offer to talk if he’d like.

Instead, he found himself staring at the war table—and trying with great difficulty to not remember in vivid detail the time that Bull had thrown him onto the table and pushed into him until the maps were crinkled and the board pieces scattered and Alex had screamed until he couldn’t anymore. He had never seen Josie more flustered than she was when they finally had emerged. Cullen had been less than thrilled when he found out, but the maps had been salvageable and that seemed to be enough for him.

The inquisition had influenced the vast majority of both Orlais and Ferelden. The war table was bereft of missions to attend to, other than a few that he had deemed too dangerous. They were doable, sure, but likely would result in casualties and the rewards weren’t worth the risk. At this point all they could do is keep the informants on the lookout and wait for Corypheus to show himself.

Growling with irritation, he pushed away from the table and stormed out of the war room. He didn’t pause when Josephine tried to hail him, ignored all the ‘inquisitor’s as he made his way through the big ass foyer. Why was this place so fucking big anyway?!

He was still grumbling to himself as he took the last step into the courtyard, a familiar voice hailing him.

“Inquisitor!”

It was Scout Harding, a smile on her face as she moved toward him to meet him halfway.

“Is something wrong?” Alex tried to hide his irritation; Harding was a good soldier and had never been anything but helpful to him and the inquisition.

“Not wrong, per se. Just surprised to see you. When I saw the Iron Bull and his Chargers heading out this morning, I thought certainly you would be accompanying them.”

_Gone…gone…gone…_

Alex swore his heart stopped, his chest pulling tight and his stomach a cold, heavy pit that threatened to overturn him in a puddle of its contents. His hands trembled, clenching into fists in a poor attempt at hiding it. His eyes were wide and unfocused and he was finding it hard to breathe. How do lungs work again?

“What..?” The word barely came out, or maybe his ears were just too flooded by the sound of the blood relentlessly pushing through his veins.

“Uh, yeah. They went out this morning. All armored up and everything. Saw Red talking to them not long beforehand. Bull seemed pretty charged up.”

“I—I have to—” He didn’t bother trying to clarify, turning on his heels and stumbling up the steps into the foyer. He vaguely wanted to hang whoever designed this place by their ankles for all the damned stairs as he climbed through the library, running past a worried Dorian and up into the aviary.

“What did you do!?” He snarled out, not caring about appearances or general courtesy.

“Inquisitor, how nice of you to visit.” Leliana smiled, turning toward him with the same ever-calculating glint in her eyes. She had been in The Game far too long.

“What _the fuck_ did you do?”

“You’re going to have to be—”

“Where did you send him?” Alex was long past being calm, doing his best to just keep from slapping the Orlesian out of her.

“I presume you mean the Iron Bull? He and his Chargers requested to be sent on a mission.” She turned back toward the papers on the table in front of her, as if none of this mattered. Her smugness only perpetuated his displeasure with her. “Something about needing to ‘blow off some steam.’ We tried herbs and he’s certainly been drinking himself into unconsciousness but it seems none of that helped. Perhaps you could tell me what this is about.”

“No. Fuck you and your fucking coy bullshit. Everyone knows you have your spies watching every fucking thing that happens in this place!” Leliana’s expression barely faltered, and somehow that just pissed him off more. She did, however, point to a spot on the map on her table.

“Here.”

Alex blanched as he looked at the map, he wasn’t sure if he was going to throw up, pass out, or deck the spymaster. Before he could do any of them, Cole appeared on the table.

“Red, raging with regret rooted in fear. Anchor is gone. Drifting, driven away by deeds not undone. Disappearing, lost, gone. Gone—Gone—” Cole’s eyes were wide, arms clutched tight to his body as he looked at Alex. “You’re—”

“Good, come with me. We have to go get him.” He didn’t wait for a response, running down the steps and not pausing as he passed the requisition table. “Dorian! I need your help!” He could almost smile at the small amount of relief that flitted through him at the way the mage was already grabbing his staff; he could always count on his companions. He didn’t even have to ask Varric as they passed him. The dwarf just knew.

* * *

The four of them had set out without hesitation, heading as quickly as possible in the trajectory that Leliana had given The Chargers. They were half a day behind them, and apparently that was enough to keep the small mercenary company out of their reach. When the party finally arrived on the Storm Coast, aptly named for the perpetual rain, the battle was already well underway.

Dragonling corpses scattered the rocky coast, the Chargers holding their own, flashes of lightning shooting from Dalish’s ‘bow’ directly into the flesh of the High Dragon that took up the vast majority of the coast. Even so, the rocks had been painted with blood, rain doing little to wash it away. A dragon could be handled, even a mother dragon protecting her clutch. But this particular mission had more to do with the high number of red templars amassing in the area.

Of course Alex didn’t miss the many once-human corpses that littered the ground. He could only hope none were the Chargers. There was too much movement and too much dragon to try to account for the company, but he couldn’t help but be relieved to see the big idiot that had dragged him out here.

_He’s alive._

“So, are we going to go get your boyfriend or what?” Varric grinned up at Alex, not waiting for a response as he pulled Bianca’s trigger.

The rogue followed suit, sliding down the cliffside and pulling daggers from his back, barreling into the fray. He tried to focus on not getting stepped on, or thrown by that powerful tail. But he couldn’t help but be distracted by the Iron Bull. His body was battered, deep purple bruises marring the skin under rising welts, lacerations scattered over his chest and sides, and judging by the way he was shielding his left side, likely a few broken ribs.

Alex couldn’t help but wishing he hadn’t been watching so closely, as it only allowed him an uninterrupted view of the dragon swiping harshly at him, catching the Iron Bull full around his waist and tossing him to the side like a rag doll. Blood splattered from her claw and the world slowed, the inquisitor pushing through what felt like molasses—heavy and suffocating.

“Bull!” His voice was hoarse, shrill, a desperation ringing out through the chaos of the battlefield. He stumbled, feet failing him as the rocks slipped and slid from underneath him. He fell to his knees beside the hulk of man, ignoring the way pain jolted through his knees, dulled by leather.

Blue eyes were wild with panic as they looked over him, chest raw and bloody and shredded from large, sharp scales pushing unbidden across his flesh. There was blood, so much blood, the lacerations seeming to hemorrhage, opening with every inhale the qunari took in. His body jolted, breath hitching as air shuddered inside his lungs.

“Bull! Look at me, Bull!” Alex couldn’t help the panic, not knowing what to do with his hands. He pulled the cloth from his waist, pushing it against the qunari’s torso and trying to stop the bleeding, too much bleeding. Green eyes finally turned toward him, glossy and maybe not quite lucid.

“Andraste’s tits, Bull. Don’t you fucking do this to me. I’ve made treaties, I’ve killed hundreds, I’ve stopped a civil war and beheaded men under the name of the inquisition. But this? I can’t do this—I can’t fucking lose you, do you understand me? I can’t, I can’t lose you. Please, Bull. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. Sorry.”

“Boss…you came.” The Iron Bull smiled tiredly, voice barely a whisper before his eyes closed.

“Fuck…don’t you fucking die on me. I love you, do you understand me? I love you, I love you..” Alex’s words repeated, turning into a nearly unintelligible chant, face pressed against his chest, fingers clenched so tight they hurt, and he couldn’t quite care about the way blood was matting his long hair.

“Come on, Inquisitor,” Varric was the one who pulled him away, less than gracefully. It was all Alex could do to watch as Dalish and Dorian did what they could, surprised when a handful of mages from Skyhold came rushing in. Likely Leliana, or maybe Cassandra’s, idea.

“It’s all my fault…this is all…I just…” Alex didn’t care that he was crying, didn’t care that he was supposed to be the unerring leader. “And now he’s gone.”

“He’s not dead yet, your inquisitorialness.”

“Looks like you’re stuck with the big ass for awhile longer, inquisitor.” Krem was leaning on the Iron Bull’s greataxe, dwarfing him in comparison, but there was something softer about his expression. As if he almost wanted to smile. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” Alex opened his mouth to speak, Krem simply holding a hand up to silence him. “Good to be surprised.”

The inquisitor didn’t remember much after that. He remembered viciously refusing to leave Bull’s side. He remembered Dorian urging him to kindly shut the fuck up when he argued the mages decision to more or less force the qunari into a death state. Eventually he had been convinced, reassured it was the only way to ensure he’d survive long enough to get back to Skyhold.

It was terrifying, they way his blood welled up and pushed continuously back into his body, the way Dorian had summoned a spirit or five to literally shield his body and prevent the blood from flowing freely. The way his body grew cold and his breathing was barely there. Alex hadn’t asked how they had kept him unconscious, Cole mumbling something about ‘warmth, skin and silk, sunlight in the eyes in the glass’ and he could only assume that he was trapped in some memory of the inquisitor’s chambers.

It was a magic the Iron Bull would likely never have agreed to, and he could only hope he’d be forgiven for allowing it. Just one of many things he had to atone for.

When they finally returned home, it was as if the magic faded instantly. Dorian slumped over with fatigue, apparently drawing from the Fade just to preserve him this long. Of course, fallen magic meant Bull’s wounds were opened anew, blood flowing freely. So much blood. Alex couldn’t help but panic again, rushing after them as they dragged him to the infirmary.

It was all he could do to breathe, pushed to the back as the mages and surgeons worked on him, ignoring his presence and focusing on the patient. Eventually, they deemed him finished and cleaned up their mess. The mages had magically mended his wounds, even Morrigan, Solas, and Vivienne had done their part.

Alex had never seen a mage do that sort of magic; it must have taken incredible strength and power for so many mages to have to be present for one patient. Still, he was as grateful as he could have been. The Iron Bull would live.

The smaller wounds had been bandaged, his ribs had been wrapped, and he now had a bag with a green liquid dripping down into an I.V. in the qunari’s arm. Elfroot, he presumed, relieved he had always made sure to have a few pots growing the herb in the garden.

He’ll live. That’s what they had said. He’ll live to make a ruckus again. They mumbled something about Chargers and mercenaries, but he hadn’t heard anything after he’d make a full recovery. Many people in the inquisition weren’t thrilled about the mercenary company.

They had served Alex well. They were well informed, they were loyal, and they were efficient. They treated him like one of their own, not some sacred holy leader.

And they had the Iron Bull.

Alex swallowed hard as silence overtook the room, the oil lamp in the corner doing little to light the room. Still, he couldn’t help but smile at the steady rise and fall of the chest that was almost too big for the bed.

“Bull…” Cold, trembling fingers reached out, cupping his cheek and finding it warm, thumb brushing over his dry lips.

His legs shook, body ready to give out after not stopping for a couple day’s worth of travel; he had been running mostly on fear-induced adrenaline. Now that the Iron Bull was going to be okay, he had nothing to sustain him.

Shakily, he climbed onto the bed next to Bull. It was crowded, but he didn’t care. Luckily, he was lean and could easily curl up against the larger man’s side. The closer, the better. He pulled the blanket over them both, hand against his torso to feel his breathing and ear to his chest confirming his heart was still beating.

He could feel the tears burning at his eyes, slipping over his nose and pooling on the warm, gray skin that smelled of disinfectant and mercury. He could feel all the strength washing from his body, the warmth of the Iron Bull lulling him into the darkness, his words coming out the ghost of a whisper.

“I love you…”


	2. MY HANDS WILL MAKE UP FOR IT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm sorry this has taken so long for me to update. life's been a maelstrom of shit and i'm not one of those people that can write through the worst. Hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> Also...think homestuck troll bulge

Bull’s heavy brow furrowed, face contorting in pain as every part of his body twinged with heat and stiffness. His dry lips parted with effort, but no sound came out, his throat much too dry to even croak. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep, it felt long weeks, yet sleeping for another year or four had its appeal. An appeal that was quickly lost as it came to his attention that he had to piss like a dragon.

Even so, he couldn’t seem to move. There was a heaviness against his chest holding him in place, and he knew it was on the wrong side to be from his presumably broken ribs. It was heavy and stifling hot, even if Skyhold was draftier than Varric’s notebook with more holes than Solas’ background.

Cracking a green eye, glad for the almost nonexistent light in the room, his chest clenched at the sight of the slender human curled against his side. His lips pulled back in a smile that he couldn’t fight even if he had wanted to. There was a softness to it that only Alex had ever been able to release from him.

It had scared him at first. The thought of a Ben-Hassrath, leader of the Chargers, _The Iron Bull_ going soft? The repercussions were enough to make him keep his mouth shut. Perhaps it was that moment when they celebrated their first dragon when he had started to pull back, that moment when he realized that he wanted the Inquisitor for more than watching that way he bounced on top of him.

If there was ever anything he regretted, it was that. Pulling back and keeping his feelings bound.

But now, the source of his affections lay in his arms, clinging painfully tight to him even in his sleep. He looked exhausted, and he could only imagine that the inquisitor hadn’t slept in all the time it took to get to The Storm Coast and back.

Careful not to wake the smaller male, the Iron Bull wrapped his large arm around the small frame that was already squished against his own. It was all he could do not to rip him from his sleep and devour his lips.

A knock at the door stopped his thoughts from going further—and they definitely wanted to go further—as Bull’s attention was pulled to the opening, large hand instinctively holding Alex protectively against him. There was no need, of course. They were relatively safe in Skyhold, and he doubted Corypheus was going to knock first.

“Ah, Bull—” It was Dorian, looking suave as always. He paused, eyes wide as he noticed the two of them, eyes softening into a smile. “Well it’s about damn time.” He at least had the decency to lower his voice.

The Iron Bull only smiled, pressing a single large finger to his lips to urge the Vint to silence.

Dorian nodded, smiling as he quietly pulled the door closed. He could assess the Qunari’s recovery later. He was sure Alex would be assessing every inch of him once he woke, anyway.

Once the door closed, darkness enveloping the two companions in their not quite big enough bed, the Iron Bull didn’t hesitate to pull Alex closer to him. He wasn’t surprised when he didn’t wake, nor did he want him to. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from pressing his lips to the inquisitor’s head, nose pushing into the silky strands and taking in all of him that he could.

Alex was here. Alex had come for him. And Alex was safe. That was really all that mattered.

* * *

A small grumble pushed past the inquisitor’s lips, reverberating up from his chest as his brows furrowed and he pulled his legs closer to himself. It wasn’t exactly unusual for him to find most of his body curled over the large qunari’s. It was warm against him, familiar and safe, his heat keeping away the chill air that tickled up Alex’s spine.

“Morning, shortcake.”

The chest he was currently using as a pillow deeply rumbled against his cheek, causing a small smile to pull back at his lips. “I’m not short, you’re just hu—” Alex’s eyes snapped open as reality hit him, the faint smell of elfroot poultices mixing in with blood on the bandages. “Bull, you’re—!!”

Alex bolted upright, turning to face the qunari. His bicep was wrapped, as were his ribs. He looked tired, but certainly not like he had nearly died a mere few days earlier. The color had come back to his face, and the chill left against the human’s side at the sudden absence of the qunari made it clear his body was no longer on the verge of death.

The Iron Bull let out a soft, rumbling laugh, eyes tender as he watched Alex. “Looks like you’re still stuck with me.”

The inquisitor could feel a familiar tingling in his jaw and burning in his eyes, pressing his lips together as he fought down the urge to cry. “Bull I…you almost died…that dragon…she…”

The bed groaned under the weight of the qunari as he pushed himself up, almost as loud as the groan that came from the Iron Bull himself. “Yeah, that was embarrassing.”

“Embarrassing? _Embarrassing!?_ Andraste’s tits, you fuck! You almost died! Don’t you get that!? You almost died and then you’d be gone forever!” Alex was yelling, he knew, but he couldn’t help it. He had been scared, and now Bull was joking about it. It wasn’t hard to figure out that he joked to deal with things that were too serious in the same way that Alex tended to lose his temper.

“Bull…I…” His hands were fidgeting in the way they did, eventually twisting into the blanket at the qunari’s waist. “I thought I had lost you. I thought you were going to die. You were gone. You left. And it was my fault. My fucking fault. I know that. I was stupid and—”

“Alex…”

“Please…let me…” He didn’t looked up at the bigger man, only certain he nodded his approval. “I…I never wanted you to leave. I never wanted to stop. I never wanted to say the word. I just I knew you’d stay no matter what and I wanted more.” His words were spilling out, tripping over one another, but even so, he didn’t miss the way the Iron Bull tensed at the last words.

“So…I wasn’t enough.”

Large, cerulean eyes snapped to look into Bull’s, brows furrowing above them. “That’s not what I said! I wanted more! I didn’t want you to just ‘pop my cork.’ I didn’t want you to just do what you ‘needed’ to do to keep the inquisitor functioning! I wanted you to feel more, I wanted you to _want_ to be with me! I—I didn’t want you to stay trapped…because I would _always_ need you. Because—because I—I already felt more. I’ve felt more for a long time. I just…I just wanted you…”

Alex’s hands were trembling at this point, fingers clenched into fists around the blanket. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry for everything.”

Silence fell between them. It was deafening, gnawing at the inquisitor’s mind as his hands shook and every part of his being begged to move, to do something, anything.

_Say something…_

Instead of words, the silence was shattered but a rumble that grew into a loud, boisterous laugh. Alex looked up at the Iron Bull with wide-eyed surprise, his lashes damp as tears threatened to fall. Or perhaps they already had, he couldn’t be sure anymore.

“We’re a couple of nug-brained asses.”

Alex only stared at him for a moment, blinking. “…What?”

The Iron Bull only shook his head, smiling pulling at his lips. Swiftly, he wrapped an arm around Alex’s waist, large hand cupping his face and pulling his entire body toward him. The inquisitor let out an undignified squeak as he toppled forward, only to find Bull steadying him and warm lips pressed against his.

It took a moment to register, Alex relaxing into the kiss and pressing back. It was soft at first, tentative and gentle, but without hesitancy. It didn’t take long for the inquisitor to shift, gently straddling a large thigh, fingers desperately clawing into the back of the Iron Bull’s neck as he nipped and sucked at his lips.

Bull was here. Bull was his. Bull was holding him. Bull was kissing him.

_Bull was staying._

It was just as large hands moved to grip his hips that Alex sensed a familiar prescence, without anymore warning than that.

“Red, hot, heated, heart, walls crumbled and crashing like a bull—”

The Iron Bull jumped, hands tightening on Alex’s waist as they both turned to look at the sudden intrusion.

“Cole!” Both of their voices rang out in unision, the awkward blond turning to them and shifting.

The young man was about to speak again when he caught the look the qunari was giving him, taking in the situation. He paused, still confused.

“He wants to make you writhe, tickled and tantalizing, make you scream…but doesn’t want to unbind wounds…?”

Alex could feel his cheeks heat up as Cole looked at them questioningly, knowing those were his own thoughts.

“I’ll explain to you when you’re older, Cole.” The Iron Bull waved his hand, trying to encourage the spirit to leave.

“No…you won’t.” Cole didn’t say anything else, instead, suddenly vanishing, as he did.

The inquisitor couldn’t help but laugh, shoulders slumping over, his hands pressed against the qunari’s chest as he tried to ignore the embarrassment.

“Now, then, where were we?” Bull grinned, pulling him into another kiss. They were small kisses, broken by his smile and a devious look in his eyes. “What was this about making me scream?”

“I—” Alex blushed, a grin spreading on his lips as he leaned in and nipped at the qunari’s lips. “There’s a reason it’s called deft hands, Bull.”

The Iron Bull chuckled, body rumbling against the inquisitor’s as he closed the gap between their lips. The movements between them were slow, lips suckling and moving together, large hands slipping down a slender spine to grip gently at his hips, slender fingers ghosting carefully over a bandaged body and digging into a strong neck.

Alex couldn’t ignore the way Bull’s fingers were kneading at his hips, or the way his own blunt nails scraped over warm, gray skin. There was a need, a desperation, mouths working faster and tongues rolling against the other. His body burned, searing wherever the qunari’s touched. He couldn’t help the way his hips moved, the way he ground against the large thigh between his own.

Despite the way their breathing grew heavy and their scents lingered in the air, mixing and begging for more, there was a certain stagnation between them. It was…foreign. New. The first time they had kissed, Bull had him pinned by his wrists to the wall. Each time thereafter when things got heavy, they usually came with bindings and a bed.

But this…just…kissing, slow pecks and gentle licks, warm hands caressing down bodies pressed together. It was…nice.

It was also not nearly enough.

Alex had nearly lost Bull, nearly given him up. Had watched him nearly die. He wanted all of him. He wanted to touch him; take away his pain. And well—

Taarsidath-an halsaam.

The inquisitor broke the heavy kiss with a sharp breath, cheeks flushed and lids heavy with lust. His fingers refused to still, pressing against the body he had never known he could miss so much. “Bull—”

The qunari only grinned, fingers tightening on the hips he held. “I was wondering how long before you asked.”

Alex couldn’t help the flush that spread over his cheeks, even if his lips and eyes had a mischievous glint to them. He shouldn’t be surprised that the Iron Bull was game for just about anything; it hadn’t exactly taken effort to pry the whole orgy-that-involved-a-strap-on-up-my-ass story from him.

Still, it was different than what they usually did and the human couldn’t help but be a little…nervous…anxious? Not that it would stop him, and the way Bull was licking his lips as he watched him only encouraged his actions. Nodding internally, he wriggled down between thick thighs, sitting back on his feet and looking up at the qunari through not-quite tame bangs.

Excited fingers gripped the edge of the blanket, the single barrier between them and the Iron Bull in all his glory. With no pomp and circumstance, he tugged the blanket back. He couldn’t help the way his tongue darted over his lower lip at the sight.

The first time he had seen it, he had been more than a little surprised. He was pretty sure he had said something along the lines of ‘What in the name of Andraste’s great flaming ass is that!??’ Bull had only laughed and it hadn’t taken much for Alex’s opinion to switch from what-the-fuck-is that to fuck-put-it-in-me.

Of course none of this mattered as dipped down, fingers gently gripping Bull’s dick, his tongue slowly tracing a path from base to tip and eliciting a delicious gasp from the qunari. The tang of his wetness lingered on his tastebuds, the entire shaft growing wetter with the attention he was giving.

The fact that qunari dicks were self-lubricating, (presumably) much in the same way a human woman is, was more than a little surprising, but Alex had quickly learned it came with…perks. Hot, wet, slick perks that left him shivering on top of the big grinning idiot.

Alex wasted no time in wrapping his lips around the tip, gladly sucking the tapered, slightly wriggling shaft into his mouth. It was strange and heady and erotic. Bull’s dick was firm, but softer than his own hardened erection, and the skin was somehow slicker, softer than the rest of his flesh. It slipped against the tongue, leaving traces of fluids on his tastebuds, the foreign substance dripping down his lips as he hungrily pushed the tip into the back of his throat.

He had almost forgotten his intentions until Bull’s hips jolted, pushing his shaft further into his mouth. Alex couldn’t help but get wrapped up in it, the taste and warmth slipping into his throat and dripping down his chin. It was intoxicating.

The inquisitor pulled back with a pop, saliva and precum dripping from his lips. He grinned lasciviously, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth. Alex couldn’t help but be pleased at the way the qunari’s chest was heaving, his cheeks flushed and lips swollen from the way he would bite them when he felt good.

Pulling his eyes away, he slid from the edge of the bed. He grabbed the oil, kept warm by a small flame, from the stand nearby. The surgeon had kept it there for massage purposes, instructing Alex to use it on the Iron Bull’s shoulders, chest, and limbs if he woke up stiff and aching. He didn’t think this was what she had in mind.

His body nearly trembled with anticipation. Still, Alex paused at the edge of the bed, eyes wandering the hulk of a man that lay before him.

“Are you sure?” He knew it was a loaded question with many connotations. Are you sure about me? About us? About staying? About letting me put my dick in your ass?

“Kadan…” A strong hand gripped Alex’s wrist, pulling him close to him and hungrily kissing at his lips. He could taste himself on the inquisitor’s lips, and it only served to make him all the more excited. “If you don’t hurry up I’m going to fuck you against the wall until you can’t walk, injuries be damned.”

Alex felt his cheeks grow hot, his throat suddenly tight and his cock throbbing in the uncomfortable confines of his pants. It was more than a little appealing, but there’d be plenty of chances for that later.

Swallowing hard, the human crawled back onto the bed, careful not to spill the oil over both of them. Slowly, he ghosted his hands along Bull’s thigh, somehow pleased at the way he opened up for him. Kissing tenderly along the surprisingly sensitive flesh, stomach flipping with every little sharp breath he heard from the qunari, he dipped his fingers into the still-warm oil, sure to spread it over all of them and not much caring if it was messy.

Carefully, he began rubbing small circles over the Iron Bull’s entrance, massaging the tender surface. He perked up at the sound that pushed from the qunari’s lips, a sharp gasp, quickly stifled as his body moved, hips opening of their own accord. The large man had always been noisier than he was during the build-up, but somehow he hadn’t expected him to be so sensitive.

It was a pleasant surprise.

As much as he ached to just watch him, Alex’s desire to make Bull come undone won out. Dipping down, he took the qunari’s dick back into his mouth, sucking slowly, tongue twirling around the slick appendage. Knowing the larger man would be heady with pleasure, he pushed a long, slender finger inside of him.

His reaction was unexpected, but not unappreciated. The Iron Bull let out a strangled moan, bucking into Alex’s mouth and tightening around his finger. The human couldn’t help but smile, not faltering in his task.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, too wrapped up in the scent filling his head and heat in his mouth to keep track, before he felt a lack of resistance.

Taking it for what it was, he carefully slipped a second finger into him. The moan it elicited was louder this time, drawn out and dying into heavy panting. He couldn’t help the pleased hum that reverberated from his lips, which only seemed to please Bull all the more.

He was gentle, thrusting his fingers inside of his tight hole, scissoring them and twisting them inside of him, rubbing his innermost walls in ways he was certain the qunari himself never could. There were advantages to slender thief hands.

It wasn’t until he pushed a third inside, oil leaking out around his fingers, that he found Bull’s sweet spot. He let out a sharp moan, voice broken as pleasure tightened his throat, saliva and precum dripping down his dick and only adding to the lewd sounds.

Twisting his fingers inside of him, Alex crooked the tips and rubbed that same spot, unrelenting. He couldn’t get enough of the gravelly moans, the way Bull tried to bite back his sounds, or the way his thighs were trembling against the inquisitor’s shoulders.

A near-shaking hand slipped into long hair that had curtained his face, pushing it back and non-too-gently pulling him from the qunari’s dick, saliva connecting it to his lips. Alex’s eyes were clouded with lust, body ready to burst just from the way the Iron Bull reacted, the way he let him have control and the way his voice begged for more.

“That’s—enough—” His words were broken, breath pushing harshly from his lips.

Alex was going to object until he noticed the way his ass pulsed around his fingers, his cock wriggling and hips opening in a most welcoming way. Sitting back onto his heels, he wiped the mess from his mouth before pulling his tunic over his head and tossing it to the side, his pants quick to follow.

He couldn’t help but feel vaguely embarrassed, unable to ignore the way Bull was watching him. Even now, he was watching like a hawk ready to devour its prey. The qunari had always fawned over his body, the way his lithe muscles quivered and twisted over his frame.

Nodding to himself, he poured the remaining oil over his finally freed erection, now barely warmer than his skin—a testament to just how long he’d been working on the qunari’s ass. Alex took a breath and lined himself up with the pulsing entrance, pausing only momentarily. He couldn’t help the way his eyes fluttered shut as he pushed the tip into Bull; it took all his effort to stop, considering the pleased gasp from the large man below him.

Watching closely, he hooked his arms under Bull’s thighs, using his weight to slowly push inside of him. A wave of pleasure washed over him, body tingling as heat enveloped his neglected cock. The qunari’s mouth had opened in a silent moan, fingers digging into the sheets below him. It was an uncontrolled response to pleasure and relief, one he was more than familiar with after more than a few times of being filled.

Alex couldn’t help the way his chest heaved, lungs tight with the way his body ached to move, heavily pushing against the man he loved.

“You stop—because of course you do—” Bull groaned, reaching down to dig fingers into Alex’s thighs. “Will you just fucking move!”

The inquisitor almost laughed—he should have known the qunari wouldn’t ask for it gentle. Following the demand, he pulled nearly all the way out, unable to not look at the way lube glooped around his dick, Bull’s ass tight and pulling him back in. Without warning, he slammed into him, the large man’s head pushing back into his pillow, horns tearing small holes in the pillow, mouth open in a harsh, strangled moan.

Alex grinned, gripping his thighs bruisingly hard as he repeated the movement, pounding into him until their skin slapped together. It was hot, so fucking hot, inside of him. His ass clenched and pulsed with every pass, schlorping and sucking his dick back in with a desperate need to be full.

“F-fuck, Bull, you feel—” His voice cut off, a sharp gasp pushing from his lips, voice quivering in his throat as the qunari squeezed around him.

“Don’t you—fucking—ah—stop—” The Iron Bull grinned up at him, rolling his hips to meet Alex’s thrusts. He only looked away when the pleasurable push and pull that filled his insides shifted, the almost unbearable feeling of fuck-yes-there!! forcing his eyes shut as an undignified mewl pushed from his lips.

Alex grinned, holding his large thighs tighter and using them for leverage, pushing long and languid inside him, slowly rubbing the entire length of his dick against Bull’s sweet spot. “Didn’t know—hah—you could make sounds like—that—fuck—goo—d~”

The Iron Bull couldn’t help but smile deviously. He knew when Alex was nearing climax, the way his toes curled and fingers dug into whatever they could get hold of, the way he chewed on his bottom lip, breath puffing out rapidly. Knowing this, he couldn’t help but clench his ass tighter around the human’s dick.

“Ah—fuck—Bull—” Alex breathed heavily, hand slipping between them and wrapping slender fingers around the Iron Bull’s dripping cock. He stroked it slowly, squeezing just so, building up the pace with his own. He was certain Bull was baiting him, but he was tenacious.

Pushing the qunari’s thighs closer to his large body, he lifted his hips and pushed into him. Strong fingers clawed at his peach thighs, when the human’s lips latched onto a sensitive nipple, sucking the pert flesh between his teeth, tongue lolling over the surface and teeth nipping hard enough for his lips to suck away the pain after.

He didn’t stop, not missing the way the Iron Bull arched against his lips, or the way he was no longer just squeezing, but desperately rutting against him. Every movement pushed and pulled his dick against his pulsing walls, the qunari’s dick throbbing in his hand.

“Ah—fuck—Alex—!!” Bull bellowed the inquisitor’s name, the sound rolling from his lips before being smothered by what could only be described as animalistic moans.

Alex didn’t falter when his hand was covered with cum, the hot, thick liquid dripping over his fingers and onto the qunari’s robust torso. He couldn’t help but keep working over his chest, moving to the other nipple, moaning against the tender flesh at the way Bull’s ass quivered and pulsed around him, squeezing and sucking on him without him moving.

It wasn’t more than a few passes before his thrusts grew erratic, short and fast and desperate, his torso tight and hips curling to push deep into the wet heat that felt so good it burned. His lips relinquished their hold, moving to press his forehead against Bull’s chest, taking in his scent.

“Fuck, Bull, fuck, fuck, ah—Bull—” The sound poured from his lips, repeated over and over, laced with colorful swearing and loud, keening moans.

Neither moved, neither spoke, Alex lying heavily against the heaving chest below him. He smiled, a little breathy laugh pushing from his lips.

“’s good you’re not dead.” The body under him rumbled with a low laughter, big, gentle fingers carding through his hair.

“Good you came after me.” His smile was evident in his voice, Alex not needing to look at him to confirm it.

The inquisitor nodded against his chest. “Didn’t have any other choice. Had to drag your big ass back home.”

“Home, huh?” He hummed, tasting the feel of the word on his tongue. “I like that.”

Alex hummed his approval, slowly pulling out and taking note of the tired, happy sound that came from the qunari. Smiling softly, he climbed over him, pressing their lips together in a whisper of a kiss. Before he could pull away, a large arm wrapped around him and pulled him down next to him, nose pressing into his hair.

It was of course Bull’s way of asking him to stay, asking for the affection that left the qunari flustered. Alex didn't fight it, snuggling against his side and slipping his fingers between the ones around his body. He didn’t say anything when the Iron Bull used the blankets in a half-assed attempt to clean them up, knowing that was going to be awkward to explain to the girls in the laundry room.

Alex wasn’t sure how long they had laid there, or when they had drifted into sleep, but when he next opened his eyes, there was light pushing through the cracks around the door and it seemed they had likely slept the night away. He couldn’t complain, his body more than happy to be well-rested and satisfied.

He was also more than a little thrilled to find the Iron Bull still heavily asleep. He slipped off the bed and padded into the corner of the room where he had left a small bag of his things. He had spent most of the past few days tending to the qunari’s wounds and hoping he would soon wake. But he had also managed to occupy his hands.

He pulled a necklace gingerly from the bag. It was a simple, durable chain made of obsidian, fastened to the tip of the smallest of teeth taken from Vinsomer. Carefully, Alex left it on the pillow beside Bull, quietly exiting the room to get a pitcher of fresh water, certain the qunari would be parched when he finally awoke.

The task hadn’t taken long, and the inquisitor was surprised to see the tal-vasoth awake, lying on his back and lucid.

“Ah, you’re awake.” His eyes softened as he sat on the edge of the bed, still shirtless. He offered the qunari a drink, and he took it thankfully. It was pleasant, but there was a certain tension hanging over them. Before either could speak, however, the door burst open.

“Sorry to disturb your rest, Inquisitor,” Cullen entered the room, papers in hand and presumably having some all-important task to discuss. “Oh sweet Maker—” He shielded his eyes, unable to warn Josephine before she followed after him.

Perhaps Alex should have thought to get a blanket to cover the exquisitely naked Iron Bull while he was out. Then again, seeing commander lion flustered and covering his eyes was far too entertaining to regret.

“I cannot move my legs.” Josie stammered, and Alex couldn’t help an undignified snort, Cullen stuttering out an apology.

“What’s taking so long?” Cassandra’s voice rang out from the courtyard, coming closer. “Is something the ma—augh!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake!” Bull rolled his eyes, Alex unable to do much more than hang his head and laugh.

“Do you see this?” The level of disbelief in Cassandra’s voice only made it all the more amusing to Alex, who knew he should probably be mature about it but couldn’t help but laugh at the audacity of the situation.

“No.” Cullen still had his eyes shielded, barely turning to look at the Seeker.

“So I take it—” Bull cut Cassandra off, making a smart remark about who had—in fact—been taking it. Cullen snorted, trying to hide his laughter, only causing Alex to lose it and making the Seeker that much more intent. “I apologize for interrupting what I assume was a…momentary diversion?”

“Nothing wrong with having a bit of fun.” Cullen was far more amused than he wanted to let on, and Alex couldn’t help but wonder if all his flirting had made the straight-as-an-arrow commander a little more bendy. Or at least curious.

Alex finally contained his laughter, taking a deep breath and nearly losing it again as he noted the way Josephine had yet to take her eyes off of the Iron Bull’s dick.

“This was more than a momentary diversion. Bull and I are together. Is that a problem?” The inquisitor may have been generally fun-going, but he couldn’t help but be serious when it came to this. He’d gone through too much already.

“A surprise, but not a problem.” Cassandra smiled, the three of them backing away and nodding their approval before shutting the door. He thought they looked genuinely happy for them.

“Fuck the Maker.” Alex sighed, smiling and turning toward Bull, who had pushed himself up next to him. His smile faltered, however, when he noticed the chain dangling from the qunari’s fingers. “That’s—”

“A dragon’s tooth split in two.”

Alex nodded. “So no matter how far, we’ll never be apart. It’s…qunari custom right? That’s…”

“Not often people surprise me, Kadan.”

“Kadan? You said that earlier, too.” Alex fidgeted, fingers twisting amongst themselves. “What’s that mean?”

“My heart.” Bull smiled, pulling him into a soft kiss, then another, and another.

Alex smiled, fingers gripping his wrists and blue eyes looking at Bull with all the love he had tried to suppress. “Kadan.”

The Iron Bull kissed him again, slowly, before pulling back, brushing his fingers through the brunet’s hair. “Sataareth Kadan…” Alex only looked at him quizzically, receiving a smile in respond. “That which upholds my heart.”

“Bull…” Alex smiled, wrapping his arms around the qunari’s neck and pulling him into a hard, deep kiss. He could feel the Iron Bull chuckle against his lips, his world shifting as the larger man gently laid him down on the mattress, lips working against his with no intent to stop.

_I love you, too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahah okay so the dick I'm sorry. I know a lot of people will be like uh what. I'M SORRY BUT I CAN'T ACCEPT THE IDEA OF A DICK THE SIZE OF MY ARM GOING INTO ANY HOLE EVER. so uh dragon dick heh?
> 
> as always, comments provide me with sustenance so feed me maybe?


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